“Orange Mittai”… A fairly affecting road movie-cum-drama

You may know Ramesh Thilak as the sidekick from films like Soodhu Kavvum. He’s the guy who looks like Prabhu Deva’s long-lost younger brother. Orange Mittai, directed by Biju Viswanath, is his coming-out party. He plays an Emergency Medical Technician (EMT) named Sathya, and the film gets going when he responds to a 108 call from an elderly man named Kailasam (Vijay Sethupathi), who’s suffered a heart attack. Or has he? When Sathya and Arumugam (the ambulance driver, played by Arumugam Bala) reach Kailasam’s home, we get canted camera angles and horror-film music. The pictures on the wall – of zamindar-like personages – hint at what once was. But now, there are overgrown weeds outside and cobwebs inside. Then we see that it isn’t a haunted house so much as a house haunted by memories. Loneliness in one’s advanced years is its own kind of horror.

The film is basically a road movie. It’s also a drama about fathers and sons. Sathya lost his father recently. Kailasam keeps hinting at a son who’s a journalist. Anyone familiar with the map of a road movie will be able to guess that Sathya and Kailasam will find, in each other, a surrogate father and son. But Orange Mittai isn’t as banal as that description sounds. It deals with something we’ve rarely (if ever) come across in our cinema – how it’s easier to be a good son to someone else’s father, how it’s easier to be a good father to someone else’s son. All too often, we hurt (and end up being hurt by) the ones we’re closest to, and sometimes it’s just easier to bond with outsiders who aren’t freighted with familial baggage.

The pleasant surprise of Orange Mittai is that it doesn’t belabour these points. There’s no melodrama. There’s not even much drama. There’s a miscalculation at the end – an emotional moment that isn’t quite built up to. But as with the rest of the film, this moment too is laced with a comic touch. An emotional Sathya embraces Kailasam, but the latter freezes, hands stuck to his side. Like many Indian fathers of a particular generation, Kailasam may crave an emotional connection, but not so much, not this kind. I laughed out loud at his discomfiture. Full credit to Vijay Sethupathi for playing this much-older man, but I got the feeling that the role may have been better served by someone who’s actually that age. Vijay Sethupathi puffs his stomach out and streaks his hair with silver – it still comes off like stunt casting. But Kailasam, as written, strikes a chord. It’s hard not to feel for him when he tells Sathya, “Unakkum oru naal vayasaagum… Neeyum enna maari aave.”

Like many people forced to fend for themselves after a point, Kailasam is an eccentric. The film, unfortunately, oversells this aspect, which is highlighted by a really odd-sounding background score (Justin Prabhakaran). You may recall Balumahendra’s last film, Thalaimuraigal – the old man there had spent so much time alone that he’d forgotten how to be around others. His eccentricities were all-too-human. But here, Kailasam is treated like a “character.” When Sathya responds to his distress call, Kailasam makes him wait – he has to first powder himself, then comb his hair… Much later, he begins dancing on the street to the unstoppable beats of Adiye manam nilluna nikkadhadi. The scene goes on and on.

Then again, maybe this is this film’s answer to the songs and fights we get as audience sops in the more commercial movies. Because there’s very little masala otherwise. Even Sathya’s subplot with Kavya (Aashritha) is very understated. There are no duets. There’s no this-is-how-they-fell-in-love. There’s just a brief flashback to a time they sat across each other in a restaurant, having ice-creams and trading endearments – she calls him karuppaa, he keeps calling her di. We see another father in these scenes – Kavya’s. He’s interesting. It’s clear he doesn’t care much for Sathya, but he probably knows his daughter is going to have her way, so he insults Sathya with silk-sheathed jabs. We get another father-daughter angle when Sathya and Arumugam are forced to pick up a second patient. That man, too, is having problems with his girlfriend’s father, and in an inspired touch, we see Sathya mouthing the latter’s dialogue – after all, these lines describe his situation as well.

Some of these scenes are handled flatly – like something you’d see on TV. And the primary emotional arc isn’t traversed too convincingly. There are a few times the director overreaches – a showy shot involving shadows that practically comes with the subtitle “director’s touch,” or the song that refers, distractingly, to Macbeth (“sound and fury signifying nothing”). But mostly, he keeps it simple. The film slowly grows on you because the content works. Save for an interlude with cops, all other detours – like a delightful non sequitur with a thief – are integrated smoothly into the narrative. (The film runs just 100 minutes and change). Sathya gets a second subplot, this time with a supervisor who keeps yelling at him over the phone (we never see him) – this adds colour to his character. And there’s the stretch that shows us that EMTs are the minnows of the medical-industry food chain – doctors treat them like dirt. Sathya’s face falls, but there’s no sentimentality. He’s calmly accepting of his lot.

Ramesh Thilak doesn’t act in the sense we usually define acting, but he really sells Sathya. He gets two great lines. He tells someone that he didn’t realise his father’s worth until the latter died, and he asks the listener not to repeat his mistake. He says this matter-of-factly – there are no tears. But his line brought a lump in the throat: Manasu ennamo theduthu. And when he has a spat with Kavya, he tells her to be practical. If she wants to break it off, she should. Thevayillaama love pannittome-nu kalyanam pannittu kashtappadathey. The title – mercifully unexplained – may refer to candy but the film is a quiet ode to the bittersweet life.

@brangan, speaking of younger heroes in older roles, I guess it is difficult to play a transition from a 20 year old to say a 35 or 40 than playing an older person. Something like a Varun Dhawan in Badlapur where he played a guy in the early 20s to late 30s. There, the makeup and grey streaks can’t help you out…

I guess the casting depends on the kind of movie the director wants to make. If he wants the movie to be the showcase of a younger actor’s prowess, the he goes for this kind of a casting. On the other hand, if the movie is conceived as a realistic movie, then he would go with actors matching the character’s age. But then, we need to look at the commercial viability and ultimately the movie has to reach a wider audience.

Maybe all the directors face this kind of a dilemma when they are contemplating a script like this. I don’t know if it’s the other way round also…an actor approaches a scriptwriter/director with an idea to play an older character and then the writer/director develops the story idea and script idea from there.

It’s always tough when heroes have to age on screen…most times, the make-up does look out of place and the viewer just plays along. Of course when an young actor does a full length older character, it’s even more difficult and can easily come across as a gimmick. I haven’t seen this film yet and can’t comment on it. But I was reminded of couple of examples where they got it right. Of course, the first one is Kamal and he can’t be compared in this category. For all the fake make-up in a number of masala films, I thought, though not young then but more middle aged, he was terrific in Nayagan. Even the walk, the bald pate, the cheek add-ons, everything was really good. I also thought Sathyaraj was another actor that has done older roles while not old himself. Vedham Puthithu comes to mind and I’m sure there are other examples.

@venkatesh…I knew that would come across wrong. What I meant was the difference between a 25 year old actor trying to play old and a Kamal, though just 32, who was a veteran by then…so it may not be ideal to compare him with others.

Kamala Kamesh. She was always younger than the roles she played and I always thought she was old, really, really old. 🙂 Whether she acted well or not, depends on how much melodrama one can take, I suppose,

Suriya’s double role was totally unnecessary IMO in VA. It would have been so much better if another senior actor had played that role. I believe it was done at suriya’s insistence
As for younger actors playing older roles , Sanjeev Kumar is unbeatable. Sholay,aandhi,trishul, mausam he was always convincing

And there is Nedumudi venu. his performance in minnaminigunte nurungu vettam as an old man was much better than kamal’s in Nayagan. There was a keen tussle between the 2 for the national award that year. Originally venu was selected as the winner and he was informed about the decision, but when the official declaration came it turned out to be Kamal. There was some friction between the 2 on account of this during that time.

As old man, Kamal had come up with different types of old man. At 28, he did Sagara Sangamam with body language of old frustrated artist with such magnificience. He should have won the national award taht year tiself. He then followed it up with Nayakan, which was just more than a performance. Charu haasan perforamnce in Tabarana Kathe can be referred or compared with likes of Sanjeev kumar or Nedumudi Venu. Kamal was more in range of Brando, Pacino, Deniro, etc. It is true that likes of Om Puri, Naseerudhin Shah, Smita Patil and Shabana Azmi wrote fan letters to Kamal around that time after Sagara Sangamam and Nayakan. He became known as India’s best at just 32.

@MANK or may be GVM had problem with using different actors for young and old krishnan…anyway it was not at all a distraction for me while watching VA,which i consider the best of GVM till now(closely followed by VTV and KK)

Anantha Krishnan: No, no guess work. GVM himself said about suriya’s insistence in an interview. Let me see if I can get a link. And the kamal nedumudi issue over the national award was a big controversy in kerala at the time.

Seriously? You liked the film? I saw it today and it redefines bad movie. I’m normally very empathetic with movie characters and find emotions everywhere but in this one, it was sorely lacking – I didn’t feel the connection between the old man and Sathya. It was basically a long drawn bromance that felt like it would never end. Where was the relationship between them? Where did it come across that it’s easier to be a father or son to someone else? The film was so mundane in everywhere including the technical aspects – music sucked big time, the landscape looked like it was as orange as the candy the old guy is obsessed with.

The relationship between Sathya and Kavya – what did it add to the film? Nothing. Those scenes could have been deleted and the movie wouldn’t have suffered even a teeny bit and we as the audience would have suffered a lot less. Typical movie — where the woman/girlfriend is just window dressing, expendable.

Anyway why the hell would anybody want to lie around here. Is there cash prizes being given out for best comments or what?.Nor do I get into pitched battles with anyone so that I have to lie to score any Brownie points. I always comment instinctively and based on the information I have. I am quite hurt and dumbfounded with this accusation. Really I already have enough tensions in my life. I come on this blog and comment here purely out of love for movies and Brangan’s writing. I don’t want this to add to that.

Sure Brangan, that’s the thing to do. I was quite shocked out of my wits when I read that comment and I reacted rather emotionally. I shouldn’t have done that. Ever since I have been on this blog, I’ve been called a lot of things, but never a liar, guess that upset me more than I thought. In future I’ll try not to.

I am not above lying in my personal life but I never found the need to do it on this blog.

MANK – I don’t remember a direct war of words between the two; in fact Kamal has always been a huge admirer of Venu. They were slated to work together in a Sathyan Anthikkad movie which later got shelved, if memory serves me right.

I do remember, though, Thilakan being vociferous that he was robbed after he missed out on Perunthachan (Amitabh for Agneepath).

Second Nina Subramani’s views on the movie. The central theme was indeed a good one, but the movie was so tackily made, and felt like going nowhere, that I couldn’t wait for it to end – the less than two hours running time notwithstanding. Was surprised to read your positive review on it. Wondering if you watched this after ‘Sakala kala vallavan’.. 🙂

doctorhari: Well, I agree it isn’t an especially well-made movie or anything.

I do say things like… Vijay Sethupathi’s isn’t convincing, that his character isn’t as “human” as the old man in Thalaimuraigal… that “scenes are handled flatly — like something you’d see on TV”… that “the primary emotional arc isn’t traversed too convincingly”… that “there are a few times the director overreaches”….

Ultimately a film is about whether you are able to overlook the things that don’t work for you. Like when you watch one of those short films on YouTube… Sometimes they work despite how they are made.

I was able to overlook the making here because of, as I say… the film “isn’t as banal”… “doesn’t belabour these points”…”strikes a chord”… “the film slowly grows on you because the content works”

Baradwaj: totally agree. Something in the movie seems to have connected with you, I can see, that made you overlook its flaws. Didn’t happen with me. That’s all.

Just that hereafter I need to keep this in mind before booking my tickets based on your positive review alone. 🙂

As an aside, being relatively new to this space, just want to convey that I’m thoroughly enjoying reading your reviews every week. Wish they reach more young cinephiles of our country, so that they get to know what good cinema is.

What in God’s name are you trying to say in this review? I think you try to over complicate a review by filling in fancy words. Please keep it simple and try not to reveal the plot. Honestly your review writing skills are pathetic to say the least. If I read your review and watched a movie I wouldn’t enjoy it.

Speaking of people playing roles where they do not look their age, Nivin Pauly did a remarkable bit of acting in Premam. As a school boy with his first crush he’s all bubbly, wide eyed innocence, as a college kid he’s an angry youth who’d dare to do anything, and later as a young man who is in his thirties he plays a mature adult with a responsible job. It was not so much the make up (though the clean shaven look as the teen, the beard in the youth and the mustache in the adult did help to define and differentiate the different ages). It was I thought, his body language and expressions that made him absolutely believable as all three people.

We’re all fans in this blog or we obviously wouldn’t be here but one of my close friends (who is very intelligent and also very good in English) once jokingly said of how Baradwaj Rangan’s reviews made her feel “slightly retarded” and want to “rush to get a dictionary”.

I’m relatively new to this blog but the quality of comments (both from the point of view of knowledge of cinema and language) from followers are a testimony (I feel) to the quality of the writing skills of the reviewer. More than half the people who follow this blog seem (to me) capable of writing a movie blog of their own.

aparna: Oh, that “dictionary” thing is such a meme 🙂 You shouldn’t take it seriously. Maybe once in a while, I’ll use a word for effect, but if you search these reviews, you won’t find any words that are beyond the comprehension of your average English-medium-educated person. I think that comment comes about more because of the style of writing than any actual words used.

And yes, totally agree about commenters. Many of them are wonderfully cine-literate and it’s always great to see how the arguments evolve around a review, after the review initiates a discussion.

Another thing about commenters:

I started writing in 2003, so that’s about 12 years now. There have been a few readers / commenters who’ve remained right through — they’re like old friends. And some have told me that they read but have stopped commenting.

But the most interesting thing, for me, is how new “batches” — if that’s the word — come and go, changing the complexion of the comments. I’m sure regular readers will look back and smile at several of these “batches” 🙂 Especially at me having to state things all over again, have the same arguments all over again 🙂

So, finally a movie has turned out to be its title – orange mittai. Neither Red nor Green 🙂

12 years of the blog eh, that being mentioned in a post of a movie about an old man 😉 However you are becoming more readable and accessible, I thought. Maybe it’s my getting used to your writing as well…

BR, Interesting you mention ‘batches’. Being new here, it does cross my mind sometimes that topics like music now vs. music then or misogyny in Tamil cinema etc. that are often intensely discussed would probably be hackneyed and ‘aracha maavu’ to you and old readers, but obviously like you say, there is always a new batch to offer fresh perspectives, so hopefully there is no question of these dying out anytime soon (Yay to that!)

BTW, this blog has taught me some new ways to look at movies, so it seems like I am in it for the long haul 🙂

All: Ye shall not trust what BR says. The loquaciousness of the lycanthrope of yore used to be something to behold. 😉

BR: Yeah, you toned it down. Thanks for that. 😀 BTW, why do people object to the use of dictionaries? Earlier they were thick and heavy books. Now they are free webpages and load fast. Vera enna venum?

Times have changed, I guess. Earlier we had the time and inclination to understand what was being told and more importantly, how it was being told. Today, it is all about the verdict (pronounced in 140 characters or less, if possible)

You either love a film or you don’t.
You are either a liberal-leftist-antinational or a right-wing-moronic-bhakt.
You are either a man-hating feminazi or a misogynistic patriarchy apologist.
And so on…

(Sigh!)

You wouldn’t want to go looking for a dictionary when in a hurry to get there… 🙂

Rahini: thanks for that link! Interesting review of what now sounds like an interesting movie ☺ ‘Humpty Dumpty on the Berlin Wall’ – I would watch that, especially with the immigration fanaticism in Europe now.

Loved that link Rahini for the glimpse into the loquaciouness of the lycanthrope, a bit of time travel into my teens via that Steve Winwood song (which for some reason I had totally forgotten for decades) and this little gem (that the link in the last comment but one underneath that post threw up) that I thought relevant to the discussion here 😉

“Even a critic who is pure in heart,
And watches films at night,
May let some spoilers slip,
While penning spurious shite!”

Er… regarding that “loquacious” thing, that’s what I meant when I said “once in a while, I’ll use a word for effect”. Here, I was alliterating. But it’s certainly not all over the place, like you guys claim 😛

“This isn’t just a question of using big words. This is also about using the right words.”

Totally agree, BR. Unknown words are not too much of a problem for accessibility. Can always look them up. (Btw, Rahini, can download dictionaries pretty quickly in android phones and look them up offline too :)) It’s only when the writing is unnecessarily obscure that one begins to lose interest. Podhuva sonnen!

“Connoisseur padam pola. Maybe it is the subject” Curious about this: do you make the writing more complex and literary for ‘connoisseur’ subjects like say, art house films or ‘international movies’; and stick to more pedestrian form for say, B centre films? Maybe, not deliberately and always. But, is that an undercurrent?

BR: Actually it’s true that you’ve toned down quite a bit, but a simple way to become more “reader-friendly” (for the kind of Hindu commenters we see all too often) is this:

Avoid all words exceeding three syllables. That would knock out words like “familial,” “discomfiture,” “eccentricities,” etc. Even within the permissible syllable-range, there are words you have slipped in here that are a strict no-no: “banal,” “canted,” “belabour,” “freighted,” “traversed,” “minnows,” and “detour.” Shall we impose a rule of two-syllables-or-less? But that would prevent your name from appearing in print. Well.. Who knows if that isn’t the idea? 🙂

Ban all hyphenated adjectives: that “silk-sheathed,” sir, has to go.

Avoid, like the plague, all literary references. You’re alluding, for crying out loud, to Macbeth!

What on earth is a “non sequitur”? Are you abusing the reader’s closest kin? 😉

Well, the first draft is, of course, not a conscious process. But, when it goes for publication, I’m sure copy-editors get back to you with “hmm… ‘Chandi Veeran’ku ithu konjam over. Jananga othukka maattaanga” That’s the part of the process I’m curious about… 🙂

There is a dichotomy there when Brangan is reviewing movies like chandi veeran or sakalakalavalavan. His reviews are not aimed at the audience that these movies cater to \made for. As he had mentioned repeatedly that his pieces are meant for the serious movie aficionado who prefer extensive analysis rather than a simple judgment. Since he writes for a mainstream paper like Hindu, people may have different expectations from him as a reviewer. I dont know whether he has made this stance clear to the brass at Hindu. I do feel he has toned down his language recently. I don’t know whether it is me getting used to his style or him trying to balance his to meet the demands of writing for a popular paper or he is just plain uninspired by the quality of the movies. I still savor those spectacular reviews he wrote for Highway and jigarthaanda as of last year. The depth of analysis,, language, the analogies – the man riding a unicycle on oiled rope across the niagara – I am quoting from memory, not sure about the exact words – well he hasn’t written anything like that since.

I suppose Brangan’s process on these films is akin to an auteur director making a fun movie as oppose to a more serious movie. Like say Manirathnam making thiruda thiruda as opposed to nayakan or iruvar. He simplify the narrative. Uncomplicates the characters and situations. But his lighting, framing, editing, sound design all bears his trademark. in the same way, the Brangan trademark of language and word play stay the same while he keeps the bar for analysis rather low. Its another matter that these films fail to clear even that.

MANK: Not to take anything away from Nedumudi Venu, but your claim seems more like a factoid. During that year’s National Awards, it was Chockalinga Bhagavathar (for Veedu) who gave a stiff competition to Kamal. Here is a source: